The One With The Fight
by SkyeRose
Summary: So...I really just wanted Jack and Sam to fight. A nice, sexy fight. So this is them fighting and then not fighting. With a little accidental plot thrown in. SamJack!
1. Fury

**The One With The Fight**

**Chapter One: Fury**

**A/N: So this was supposed to be a little more-than-drabble-less-than-story, but then I just kept writing and writing and this little gemmy thing was born. It features what I believe is the most real conversation I've ever written between Sam and Jack, but that doesn't rear its head until the last chapter. So, I hope you like it!**

**Enjoy!**

Sam was furious. Angrier than she could ever remember being in her entire life; and certainly angrier than she'd ever, _ever_ been at the man squaring off in front of her. She could not _believe_ what he had done, let alone the things he'd said! Just who the hell did he think he was anyway?

"Carter, I am your commanding officer!" Well. Guess that answered that then.

"I understand that, sir." Her voice was low, full of barely restrained anger as she glared at his expressionless face. God damn it, _why_ was his face always so expressionless? "What I don't understand is-,"

"Sam." Daniel warned, trying to keep what little peace there had been.

"Daniel!" Sam threw up her hand, not looking away from her CO. "What I don't understand, _sir_, is why you think that gives you the right-," She was cut off for the second time in as many seconds.

"Because, _Major_, I am your commanding officer. I feel like we've done this before." He made a "really?" gesture with his hands, making it perfectly clear he was not at all mystified as to his sense of déjà-vu. "And this is how it's going to be."

"So that's it?" Her voice was dangerously close to a shout.

"That's it." Jack shot back, eyes daring her to push him—to question him again.

"Sir, you had no right-!"

"The very fact that you're calling me "sir" gives me the right, Carter!" His fists clenched at his sides, muscles tightening as he fought the instinct to reach out—to neutralize. He had never seen his major this upset and with that anger directed fully at him, he wasn't really sure what to do. Yes, okay, so he may have overstepped bounds the eensiest bit when he had told the rebel leaders that Major Carter was not, in fact, a warrior, but their…um…slave.

But, hey! In his defense, the rebels had been ready to tear all of SG-1 limb from limb when Carter had unwittingly stepped in to negotiate some of their alliance terms. And it had been Daniel's idea anyway! Not necessarily the word "slave"…and maybe not the quick jerk he'd administered to Carter's hair to show dominance…

Well, yeah. He agreed that she had every right to be mad. Angry, furious, livid, murderous…whatever. But now that they were all safely back on base, and he had sworn they would never go back to that planet, the subject needed to be dropped. End of story.

"I did what I did for the good of the team." Jack half-turned, satisfied that his part in the argument was now settled.

"With all due respect, sir, but are you _serious_?" Her voice had risen another couple of octaves and Jack saw Daniel flinch.

"Carter, you do know that putting in that little qualifier doesn't actually absolve you of showing respect?" Jack could hear his inner voice of reason—which sounded alarmingly like Daniel—telling him he needed to shut up immediately and start doing damage control. Carter didn't know the full extent of the reasons behind his chauvinistic actions. She didn't know that-

"Colonel O'Neill, you were way out of line."

"Excuse me?" Now it was his voice's turn to rise. She had sounded way too much like the general just then.

"You had no right to identify me as the "team's slave" and you _certainly_ had no right to grab me-,"

"I did not "grab" you." He used air quotes before he realized that now was probably not the best time to do so.

"Stop cutting me off!" This time, Sam did yell. She yelled so loudly she managed to create an echo in the entirely concrete, fully furnished rec room. After the disastrous mission, she had grabbed Teal'c and asked—told—him to spar with her for a few; anything to alleviate the fury coursing through her veins. It was there that Daniel and the colonel had found her, disheveled, exhausted, but no less outraged.

Silence reigned supreme for a few seconds as the rest of Sam's team stared at her with something akin to shock. To her surprise, it was Teal'c who broke the silence. To her even greater surprise, he picked a side.

"I do not believe O'Neill acted out of line, Major Carter."

Completely dumbfounded, Sam turned open mouthed to her oldest, and supposedly wisest, friend. "Teal'c?" It was more of a splutter than an actual word.

"Thank you, T! See?" Jack slapped Teal'c on the back, hoping that this would be enough to take the steam out of his major.

"Now, hold on a minute." Daniel stepped forward and Sam could have kissed him, she really could have. "Sam isn't out of line, either."

Sam's head jerked as she said, "Either?" at the same time Jack said, "Why not?"

Blinking rapidly behind his glasses, Daniel strategically sidled in between the two officers, hoping that lack of a direct path of anger would help dissipate it. "I understand where you were coming from Jack, I'm sure Sam does too—," The derisive half-muffled snort behind him indicated that Sam most certainly did not, but Daniel ignored her for the moment. "But you took it too far. The slave thing was questionable, the list of, ah, duties she attends to probably unnecessary, but you never should have laid a hand on her."

"O'Neill was merely asserting his dominance over what the rebel faction needed to see as his property." Teal'c was looking directly at the wall on the opposite side of the room, refusing to let any of his friends' expressions sway his opinion. He had a particular weakness for Major Carter, but, in this case, he needed to view her as a fellow warrior instead of as a sister. "He did what was necessary to ensure our successful escape."

"I don't believe this!" Sam threw up her hands, ripping off the head guard she'd been wearing for her sparring matches. She'd be damned if she was going to spar—hell, do _anything_—with Teal'c for a very long time. Throwing the guard across the room, she almost smirked when all three men flinched at the sound it made as it hit the weights.

"Sam, wait," Daniel held up his hands like he was trying to soothe a wild animal. And, looking at her, he realized that was almost exactly what he was doing. Sam was dressed all in black—black sweatpants, black tank top, black tennis shoes—her skin was flushed and slick with sweat, her recently exercised muscles standing out in sharp relief. Her hair was wild from the head guard, but instead of making her look ridiculous, Daniel was reminded of the mugshots from those 'Most Dangerous Criminals' shows. "I think we all agree that Jack went too far, but we also all know that if he didn't do what he did," He looked meaningfully at all three. "We would not be standing here discussing this. Discussing anything." When nobody moved, Daniel threw his hands out, palms up. "Because we'd be dead."

"Yeah, got that Daniel." Jack waved the archaeologist down, still-unreadable eyes boring into his second in command's. "Did you, Carter? Get that, I mean?" Daniel dropped his head into his hands and got out of the way; he wouldn't even try to help Jack if the man insisted on "poking the bear."

Sam didn't respond; instead she turned away, running rigid fingers through her feral hair. Daniel, Jack, and Teal'c took the momentary reprieve to all glance at each other, wondering just what the hell they were supposed to do next. Sam was generally the most level-headed out of all of them all things considered…she was also turning out to be the most terrifying.

When it became clear that neither Teal'c nor Daniel was going to step in again, Jack rolled his eyes. "Look, Carter, I know you aren't happy-,"

"Happy?" Sam whirled around, eyes bluer than he'd ever seen them before. He briefly wondered if anger could actually intensify eye color, but quickly realized a wandering mind was not the best way to defend himself. "I swear to God, Colonel, if I thought it would do any good I would have you up on charges of gross misconduct."

"Sam!" Daniel's voice was sharp, but went unheard.

Jack had been irritated before. But now? Now he was angry. "Gross misconduct? Major, are out of your goddamned mind?"

"I don't know, sir! You might've jostled my _mind_ around a bit when you grabbed me!" Ripping off her gloves for emphasis, she threw those aside, before turning to give the full force of her ire to her commanding officer. Somewhere deep, _deep_ down inside of her, she knew that this right here was a court-martialable offense fifty times over. All he had to do was give the word and she would be arrested so fast, her head would spin. A very small, very tiny part of her desperately wished that someone would stop her.

She was too far gone to stop herself.

"Oh, please, Carter, you're overreacting." Jack fought to keep from rolling his eyes. He'd barely touched her, really. Just reached up and gave a little tug on her hair. Nothing to write home about.

"Overreac-!" Sam cut herself off abruptly and her hands flew to her temples, as if that would hold in her rage. Like that would keep her sane. "Leave, sir."

"What?" At least two of them spoke, maybe all three, but Sam didn't look up to check.

"Get out. I can't look at you right now."

"Don't you think you're being a bit of a drama queen?" Jack raised an eyebrow, that annoying little Daniel-voice nagging at him. _'You know you screwed up. You know you screwed up big and now you're trying to deflect. Can't let anyone see that tough ol' Jack is embarrassed or apologetic…no way, no how.'_

Without thinking, Sam took a quick step forward, arms automatically dropping into a defensive guard. How dare that man! If he was surprised, he didn't show it. "What, you want to hit me, Carter? Go ahead." He spread his arms out, leaving a wide open target. "If that will get your head out of your ass, go for it!" He hadn't spoken to anyone like this since he was head of training at the Academy for a brief stint. And he certainly never would have thought that those words and that tone would ever be directed at his major. Never. Not at Carter.

She was seething. Her teeth were bared and her chest heaved as she regarded the man in front of her, barely noticing that Daniel had a hand pressed against Teal'c's chest, stopping him from getting in the middle. Her CO didn't move a muscle as he watched her watch him. Sam was no bright-eyed optimist, she held no naïve ideals about love and honor. She had long ago accepted that her feelings for her commanding officer were so far outside the parameters of appropriate that not even NORAD would be able to track them.

But that didn't mean to she had to agree with him, cow-tow to him, or even _like_ him. In fact, she felt that she had every right to really not like him and not just because of this mission. Five years…_five years!_ Five years and nothing. They were still stuck in an eternal stalemate and by God, if she couldn't have him then she was damn well going to hate him.

"No, sir." Sam sucked in a breath as she lowered her arms, blood pounding in her ears.

Jack didn't say anything for a long moment, knowing that the tension in the room was reaching either its breaking point or its recession. He and his second regarded each other, expressions stony. Never in a million years had either one of them ever thought they were capable of this.

"Well, good." Jack said. And the tension _snapped_.

Launching herself forward, Sam grabbed the front of her CO's shirt and, nearly lifting him off of the ground, shoved him against the wall. Jack blinked at the stars that exploded in front of his eyes, not really believing that what had just happened had actually just happened. For what felt like an eternity, the two officers glared at each other, breathing hard. Then, Jack wrapped his long fingers around Sam's and, breaking her hold on his shirt, spun and slammed her against the wall.

Eyes wide, Sam stared hard at the man who had her pinned against the wall. She hadn't ever been afraid of him, not once in the five years she'd served with him. Not after everything she'd seen him do, not after anything she'd ever read that he'd done. And she'd be damned if she started now.

Every inch of his hard body was pressed against hers and, knowing that this should absolutely not be turning her on in anyway whatsoever, Sam twisted her hips, pleased when he grunted. Whether it was in pain or pleasure, she didn't know, and she didn't pause to find out. The second his grip loosened the slightest bit, Sam pushed forward, the heel of her foot jabbing into the back of his knee, sending him crashing to the mat on his back.

Unfortunately for her, his reflexes were not nearly as slow as he wanted people to believe. Reaching out with both hands, he grabbed her waist in a vice grip and took her down with him. As though through a fog, he could hear Daniel and Teal'c both shout out, but neither moved to stop the brawl.

They landed—_hard_. Sam's chin bounced off of Jack's sternum, the blow reverberating through her skull and rattling her teeth. They each scrabbled for the upper hand, yet neither went for the obvious choice of just straight up hitting. Instead, Jack grabbed for Carter's wrist, putting her in a textbook arm bar. Sam bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out and only tasted blood for her effort. Planting both of her feet on the ground, she pushed herself up enough to twist her body, driving her free elbow down into his stomach.

But she found she couldn't put her whole weight into it. Something internal stopped her at the last second, the blow glancing off of his side instead of causing any actual damage. Still, it was enough to get him to let go of her wrist and Sam whirled again, straddling his hips and twisting. Jack reached up and grabbed the straps of her tank top and—consequently—her sports bra and flung her off of him, using her momentum and his weight to flip their positions. Now she was on the bottom.

"Carter-," He bit out, the rest of his sentence lost when she moved suddenly.

Arching her spine as much as she could, Sam brought her knee up, executing the first truly dirty move of the fight. She watched as her commanding officer screwed up his face against the pain, but his grip didn't relent. She should've known better. Trying a different tactic, Sam went back to basic psychology.

She shifted her knee quickly, like she was going to jab him again. He didn't move completely out of the way, but he shifted just enough for Sam's knee and foot to squeeze out from beneath him. Muscles she hadn't used in at least a decade screamed in protest as she stretched up and hooked her knee over Jack's shoulder. His eyes widened and Sam knew that, for as long she lived, she would never get that look out of her head.

His eyes clouded and she suddenly understood why he had the reputation for being the most lethal, dangerous son of a bitch on that base. But it wasn't just anger that flashed across his face; it was heat, and surprise, and desire, and pride, and something else that she couldn't name. Not that she tried very hard.

Suddenly afraid, a feeling she hadn't thought was possible with the amount of anger and adrenaline coursing through her, a cry tore from Sam's lips. Using her leverage, she wrenched her back as she twisted, throwing him off of her.

The silence was deafening. The two officers lay on their back, breathing hard and blinking away the sweat that had dripped in their eyes. Well, most of it was sweat. Sam could feel the slightest prickling at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to give in. Not now, not in front of him.

It was Jack who broke the silence. "Daniel. Teal'c. Go." Sam was annoyed that his voice didn't sound out of breath, or any different than usual at all, actually.

Half expecting an argument, Jack was surprised when the two non-battling members of SG-1 left the room without a word, the door closing firmly behind them. That had been too easy. They were probably waiting just outside the door, listening for anything that would warrant their speedy return.

The only sound in the room for long time was their breathing. Jack could feel his heart rate slowly returning to normal, the blood roaring in his ears now for an entirely different reason. He had just gotten in a fight with _Carter_. He wasn't sure what surprised him more; that it had happened or that it had taken this long.

He wasn't a stupid man, regardless of what he sometimes wanted people to think. He had known for a long time that despite all of the professionalism in the world, this…_thing_…between him and Carter was going to have to come to a head at some point. Granted, he'd sort of seen the release going a little…differently…but, hey, maybe things could go back to normal after this. They'd been wonky for awhile now, probably ever since that damned za'tarc thing. Or when they'd had their memories stamped. But, let's not forget that whole Jolinar disaster and, oh yeah, that time when he'd had to kill her.

Okay, so they were screwed six ways from Sunday.

"Feel better?" He asked, once he was certain she wasn't going to attack him again. Not that he hadn't invited it, of course.

Sam didn't answer for a long time. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and ragged. "No, sir."

Jack sighed and nodded, knowing that she couldn't see him. If he was honest, he _did_ know why he'd taken that mission as far as he had; he was angry with her. Had been for a quite some time. He was angry and he'd seen an opportunity and his mouth and body had acted without his consent. He had wanted to make her just as angry as he was.

What he hadn't counted on was the fact that she was, apparently, already incredibly angry with him.

He didn't need to be an astrophysicist to know that two plus two makes four.

Throwing propriety and caution to the wind, Jack let one of his hands fall to the mat, palm up, inches from his major's. He apparently did, however, need to be an astrophysicist to understand that whole 'time relativity' thing because the next sixty seconds felt like an eternity.

Not really expecting her to accept his olive branch, he nearly cried out in surprise when her fingers wrapped around his, squeezing slightly. He squeezed back and together they lay on the garish blue mat, staring up at the ceiling, not needing to say anything.

"Sir?"

Or not.

"Carter, at this point, I think the 'sir' is void."

"I'm not going to apologize."

"I'm not going to ask you to."

Sam blew out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She had just assaulted her commanding officer. Knocked him flat on his back. If this had been a training scenario or a physical evaluation she would be over the moon with her performance—thrilled that she'd managed to, sometimes, get the better of an officer much more experienced than she. And one who certainly outclassed her in weight and strength.

But not him. They were a _team_; she was his second in command. There was supposed to be some semblance of respect between them and she had just blown that idea right out of the water. But why wasn't he racing to go write her up? Maybe she'd actually hurt him and he was just waiting until he regained the use of his faculties?

Doubtful.

As though reading her thoughts, Jack squeezed her hand once, then sat up and pulled her with him. Turning to face her commanding officer, she searched his eyes for some clue as to what he was thinking. She couldn't remember ever being this close to him, but still, nothing in his expression gave him away.

Her chest brushed against his as he reached out and took her other hand, surprised to feel how much she was shaking. Jack knew a part of it was from the inevitable adrenaline-crash, but a part of him hoped she felt the same fear that he did at being so close to each other. He took a slow step forward and she matched him, taking a step back. Jack kept pushing her until her back pressed against the wall, forcing her chin to tilt up to maintain eye contact.

He could feel every inch of her as his gaze roved over her face. He felt her doing the same and knew that, without a doubt, this was a turning point in their relationship. Of course, there were upwards of four billion possible directions for it to turn towards… but, they were still on base. Still colonel and major.

Still royally screwed.

**TBC**

**A/N: I wanted to try to break this up so you guys would have less to slog through, but I really didn't want to break the tension. Hopefully that was okay! Please R and R!**


	2. Expect the Unexpected

**Chapter Two: Expect the Unexpected**

**A/N: Wow, thank you all so, so much for all of your support! They mean the absolute world to me! I do want to clarify for one reviewer—listed as 'Guest' so I'm sorry I can't personally reply!—the fight was more about Sam letting out her frustration than Jack actually fighting back. He never wanted to hurt her and he didn't much care about gaining the upper hand. I know I didn't make that clear, I'm sorry! We all know Sam is crazy kick ass, but Jack is in another league; something that they're both aware of. Thank you!**

**Enjoy!**

"It can't go any further than this." His voice was hoarse as he rested his forehead on hers, feeling her heart stutter against his chest.

"I know." Her voice was surprisingly strong, but full of regret.

He straightened to his full height again. Letting himself enjoy the moment for just a while longer, he pressed the backs of her hands against the wall and, slowly, inched them up until they were above her head. He watched her face carefully, his chest constricting when her eyes never betrayed what she was really thinking. He had taught her well.

Too well.

…..

Sam had never felt more vulnerable in her entire life. She was entirely in his hands, literally and figuratively, and it was taking all of her willpower to keep her knees from giving out. She'd never seen him look so intense. It scared her that she found this whole thing so incredibly arousing, though, she knew if it had been anyone else in his place, he would be out cold before he could say, "uncle."

She knew he knew that too.

And, in that moment, Sam wished for something harder than she'd ever wished before in her life. She wished he would just say to hell with the Air Force and SG-1 and rules and she wished that he would end her suffering. Sam wished he would close that last inch between their lips and make her stop wishing for awhile.

….

Jack felt her breath quicken and knew that she was fighting to remain in control…the same way he was. He wondered if all of this was even worth it anymore. He wondered if anything could be worth more than her.

Slowly, excruciatingly, he lowered their arms and stepped back; the tension between them too much, too suffocating. He needed to get out, get away before he did something that would hurt them both. Tearing his gaze from hers, he turned away, heading for the door he was sure Teal'c and Daniel were still waiting behind.

"Coward."

The word, though whispered, rang across the room as though she'd shouted it. His body reacted without giving his brain time to think. Spinning on his heel, Jack closed the distance between them and, tangling his fingers in Sam's hair, crushed his lips against hers.

The kiss was bruising in its intensity; lips, tongues, and teeth clashing as they each fought for dominance. Sam moaned into his mouth, the sound reverberated through his entire body and cruelly exploited his most primitive desires. Her hands clutched at his shirt as his own fingers slipped from her hair and explored her neck, her shoulders, her hips, her—

Yanking back, Jack was pleased to see the dazed but hungry look on her face. Planting his hands firmly against the wall on either side of her head, he smirked dangerously. "I am many things, Carter…a coward isn't one of them."

Impossibly, she managed to take a step forward, forcing him to straighten fully. "I don't buy it. Sir." She added belatedly, letting the title roll off her tongue. She watched his expression darken and the corners of her mouth tilted upwards, rather invitingly in Jack's opinion.

"Carter." A warning.

Sam could feel the blood rushing to every part of her body except her brain. She felt like she was on fire, from her toes to the tips of her hair all she could feel was _him_; all this and the man wasn't even touching her. If he said her name again, she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that would be her undoing. She would throw him on the mats again and then pray that no one walked into that rec room for a _really_ long time.

But he didn't say her name again. Instead, he stepped back, hands falling away from the wall as he put a fair amount of distance between them. Swallowing her groan of frustration, Sam took her own step back, silently letting him know that she was—once again—going to follow his lead. Her back had grown very accustomed to this particular spot on the wall, so Sam decided that this was where she would stay for a good long while. Maybe until most everyone on base had gone home for the night, maybe until the next apocalypse.

It was a toss up really.

The soft sound of the door opening had both officers turning to look at who was intruding, neither of them sure if they were thankful for the interruption or not.

"Are you guys done?" Daniel and Teal'c stepped into the room, but left the door open this time. An invitation.

An escape.

"Yeah." Jack turned unfathomable eyes on Sam. "We're done." Turning away from his second in command, he strode towards the door, straightening his shirt as he went. "Go home, Major. I don't want you on this base." He didn't turn around to watch her reaction.

Sam fought the urge to squeeze her eyes closed, knowing that both Daniel and Teal'c were watching her closely. Squaring her shoulders, Sam pushed off the wall and walked as casually as she could to the door. As she passed her two teammates, Daniel reached out a hand, his palm warm on her bare shoulder.

"Sam." He waited until she turned to look at him, her eyes carefully blank. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, Daniel." She smiled, a little too abruptly.

"But, Jack-,"

"The colonel has to do what he has to do. He's my superior officer." Daniel blinked at the staccato pattern Sam's words had adopted.

"We'll talk to General Hammond. We'll tell him-,"

But Sam shook her head, staving off the rest of his plea. "The truth, Daniel. I accept full responsibility for my actions." Turning away from her teammates, the people that had become like family, Sam walked away with her shoulders straight and her head held high.

Nobody saw her face screw up against the sudden onslaught of emotion. Tears fighting for release, she felt her breath catch and knew she absolutely had to get out of the mountain before she completely lost it. She'd already lost everything else.

….

Sam was still in her sparring clothes hours later when the sharp knock resonated through her entire house. She had gotten home, thought about changing, thought about cleaning up, thought about pulling the leaves off of her Class A's, thought about just leaving…but she had done none of those things. She had sat on her couch and watched the shadows melt together.

Standing slowly, she relished the ache and stretch of her muscles as they lengthened and unwound. It reminded her that she was still anchored to something real.

Her steps were cushioned by the plush carpet lining her entryway and Sam felt suddenly sad that she'd taken that stupid carpet for granted all these years. She wanted another minute, just one , to enjoy her house as it stood now and all of the freedom within its walls that she'd never noticed before. But another knock—more of a pounding, really—shook her from her wishful thoughts as she reached forward with a steady hand and opened the door.

What she saw sent her heart racing, but not in the way she had been anticipating. Colonel Jack O'Neill stood on her doorstep, alone and grinning. Alone and grinning and carrying a pizza.

A quick run through of the mental checklist she had compiled of the possible things that would be waiting for her on the other side of that door lead her to the relatively frightening conclusion that she had not accounted for a variation in which her CO had gone insane.

"Aren't you gonna invite me in, Carter?" He didn't sound like he'd gone insane.

"No, sir." A nervous laugh bubbled up in her throat and she nearly choked on it.

"Do you know how many times you've said that to me today?"

"No, sir."

Jack was about to respond, when he caught the barest of glimmers in her eye. "Carter…was that a joke?" She opened her mouth to reply, but he held up the hand that wasn't carrying dinner. "Ah! I have a feeling I know the answer. Now, scooch."

Feeling quite like she was in some sort of dream, Sam stepped aside and closed the door behind the man she should've expected this from. Should've and hadn't and now, once again, he had the upper hand.

"Carter?" Sam nearly jumped out of her skin when his fingers brushed her shoulder. She hadn't heard him come back into the entryway after putting the pizza in the living room.

"What are you doing, sir?" Sam turned to face him, for the third time that day finding herself between a rock and a hard place. Which one he was at the moment, she wasn't sure.

"Checking on my second in command. I heard she had a tough day." Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and it was then that Sam noticed his clothes. He was dressed in jeans and a long sleeved black tee shirt, his feet clad in a pair of hiking boots. She'd always loved him in civvies. She decided she didn't see him in them nearly enough.

"I don't understand, sir." Sam told herself that the hitch in her voice was entirely due to confusion and not at all to do with the way he was looking at her. Hadn't he gone off to report her?

"That's a first." He threw her another grin before tilting his head in the direction of her living room. "Hungry?"

"Starved." The little wrinkle in between Sam's eyebrows didn't fade as she followed him to her couch, watching as he settled himself onto the cushions like he did this every night. "Sir, I'm sorry, I have to ask-,"

"What happened in that room stays in that room, Carter." Jack looked up at her, searching her face.

"But, Daniel and Teal'c-,"

"Weren't in the room." He held out a slice of pizza, but Sam didn't relent.

"Sir, my behavior was highly inappropriate."

"So was mine." This time when their eyes met, Sam saw the darkness swirling in his again. "Eat, Carter."

"I…" But Sam trailed off, deciding against arguing. If he wanted to let it be water under the bridge, she sure as hell wasn't in any position to stop him. But she did need to make one thing very clear. As she sat on the couch next to him and took her proffered slice of pizza, Sam fixed him with an intense stare. "Sir, if we leave it in the room, we leave _everything_ in the room." She raised her eyebrows for emphasis, searching his eyes for comprehension of what she was saying. "Again." She added, knowing that she probably shouldn't have.

"Oh, Carter." He leaned back, biting into his slice with an enigmatic grin on his face.

"Oh, Carter?" Sam repeated, dubious.

"Wait. Let me enjoy this." He took another bite while simultaneously raising his eyebrows at Sam, a silent command that she start eating. Sam blinked a few times before raising the pizza to her lips and taking a larger bite than she'd originally intended.

"Enjoy this, sir?" She tried to talk around the large mouthful of food and succeeded in nearly choking.

"Yeah. I so rarely know something you don't." Reaching for another slice, he kept his eyes studiously looking anywhere but at Sam.

His second nodded slowly, eyes narrowed suspiciously as she put her half-finished slice back in the box and licked the grease off of her fingers. Jack watched her do it, even when her eyes narrowed further, having figured out where his attention had gone. Putting her hand in her lap, she cleared her throat.

Jack frowned in mock concern. "Throat dry, Carter? Want a beer? I brought those too, but I left them in the truck. Figured I should have a free hand in case…" He trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his pizza.

"In case?" Sam prompted.

Jack winced, giving the very distinct impression that the phrase, 'Like pulling teeth,' was not so much figurative as very, very literal. "In case you tried to slam the door in my face."

"Oh." Sam sat quietly for a minute, letting that sink in. "Hold on, you weren't going to let me close my own door?"

Jack stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. When it became clear that he had absolutely no intention of answering, Sam shook her head in exasperation and grabbed her previously abandoned pizza slice. Jack grinned when she started to eat with renewed interest, going after a second slice within seconds. "I knew you'd be hungry." Sam rolled her eyes, figuring that if he hadn't dressed her down for _fighting_ him, he wouldn't care about a little insubordination. She hated it when he was right.

When the pizza was entirely gone, save for a couple of crusts that Sam had tossed back in the box, she fixed Jack with her best "Teal'c stare." He glanced at her, then looked away, smirking. He wasn't kidding before, he rarely ever got to hold all the cards and he _was_ very much enjoying it. "Fine." Sam said after a moment, hands slapping her thighs. "Fine." She stood abruptly and shook her head as a half-strangled laugh made its way up her throat. Turning on her heel, Sam left the living room, no longer noticing the plushy feel of her hall carpet or the freedom-filled walls.

"Uh, where're you going?" Jack shouted after her, completely taken aback.

"I'm going to change!" She hollered back, still half-hysterical and laughing incredulously to herself. Laughing was probably a strong word.

"Into _what_?" His voice lacked any sort of comprehension.

"Clothes, sir! I'm going to change my clothes!" She didn't think to close her bedroom door, the thought that he would follow her literally never occurring to her.

"Why?" His only response was another weird, high-pitched laugh. As Jack sat alone on his major's couch, he felt that there was the very real potential that he'd just gone and broken her. His own personal interests aside, he realized that was probably very, very bad for Earth. And the galaxy.

Right.

So, ignoring the fact that she had given no indication that he would be at all welcome to follow her, he followed her. Her room was dark, but he could hear the sound of fabric rustling. Soft light from the hallway spilled into her bedroom in a long rectangle, illuminating a narrow strip of Carter's bed and part of her desk and closet.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he caught a flash of blonde hair as she moved briefly into the shaft of hallway light. Her hair was followed by a flash of something paler. It took Jack a second, but he realized that that 'something paler' was, in fact, Carter's bare back.

Well.

Jack realized that now would be a good time to announce his presence. He also realized that, even after a few more seconds had passed, it was _still_ a good time to announce his presence. An even better time, considering that she had just pulled off her black sweats. And there she stood.

Her back was to him still, and there wasn't even enough light for Jack to make out the freckles he knew adorned her perfectly creamy skin, but none of that mattered. Sam Carter was standing in nothing but her underwear, toes curling into the carpet, and her hands running haphazardly through her hair.

Scratch the 'announcing himself' plan, he should get the hell out of there and then pretend that he hadn't seen anything when she came back into the living room. He had taken a single, silent step when she spoke.

"Running away again." The words came out flat and Jack wasn't sure if it was meant as a question or a statement. His hesitation didn't seem to surprise her as she shook her head and huffed a laugh to herself. Her arm jerked and she suddenly became harder to see. It took Jack a second to realize that that was because she had pulled on a shirt. Turning to face him, Sam took a sort of sadistic pleasure in watching as his mask fell away, unable to hide his shock.

She had pulled on a flannel button down that she was pretty sure she'd had since college. It was threadbare in places, but it brought her comfort—and Sam had never been the type of girl to take comfort in clothes.

What she hadn't done was button up the comforting flannel before turning around. So here she stood, in only a pair of regulation black underwear and a very un-regulation flannel and she had never felt more powerful.

"You going to insult me again?" Jack knew with one hundred percent certainty that if she called him a 'coward' again he would not be able to stop himself, so with a herculean effort, he managed to tear his gaze from the incredibly tempting strip of skin Carter's shirt revealed and met her shadowed eyes.

"It's not an insult if it's true."

"I don't think that's how that works."

"I don't think this is how _this_ works." Sam shot back, desperately trying to ignore the way her voice broke.

Jack didn't have a snappy comeback for that one. She was right. Unsurprising, that.

So, instead of speaking—or trying to speak, he was pretty sure that shirt had killed him—he acted. Jack shut the door, plunging the room into darkness…and himself into light. Instead of locking himself in the room with the half-naked Carter, he had stepped into the hallway and closed the door between them.

Huh.

**TBC**

**A/N: I'm evil, I know. Sorry! The third and final part will be up tomorrow!**


	3. The One In The Dark

**Chapter Three: The One In The Dark**

**A/N: You guys…the support for this story has been overwhelmingly to say the very least. Thank you all so, so much! This was crazy fun to write! I do want to address some of the reviews from people without PM capabilities, though—this fic was just supposed to be a bit of unabashed fluff, without really delving into the deeper stuff. A sexy fight to end in a sexy not-fight. It's not a unique ending, but it is unique for my stories! I've never written one ending like this before…I don't think?**

**But, anyway, I hope some of you aren't too disappointed! I have more stories in the works, some silly, some serious…so there's a little something for everyone!**

**Enjoy!**

He heard Sam's surprised bubble of laughter behind the door before she called out. "Seriously?"

Jack let that question really hit, let it wash over him as he thoroughly and completely thought it all—

"Hell no." Jack turned the knob and stepped back into the room before shutting the door again—this time with him on the right side of it.

Except now the room was in total darkness and he couldn't see a damn thing. The only reason he knew Carter was even still there—and hadn't, you know, teleported or whatever—was because she was laughing hysterically. Like full on hiccupping laughter. Jack felt his own grin begin to tug on his lips when the sound of her hiccups changed abruptly and Jack realized that she was no longer laughing.

Nope. Now she was crying.

"Tell me what you came here to tell me." Crying and making demands.

"Maybe now isn't the time?" Jack stood helplessly in the dark, debating whether or not she'd appreciate his approach.

"I swear to god." She laughed through the tears and Jack could practically feel the look she was giving him. It made him tingly. But also a little remorseful.

"I talked to Hammond." Sam went deathly quiet, her laughter and her tears both silenced by his words. When she didn't say anything, he continued. "I told him that my judgment had been compromised and that I wasn't fit to lead SG-1 anymore."

"Sir!"

Jack held up his hand in the dark, knowing full well she couldn't see him. "I'm not objective anymore. I haven't been objective in a long time."

"SG-1 needs you, sir." Her voice was quiet, but sounded a lot closer than he remembered.

"And my needs? When do I get to stop pretending those don't matter?"

"When SG-1 isn't needed."

Jack let out a singular, dry laugh and threw up his hands. "Great. That's just the answer I wanted to hear."

"It's not exactly the answer I wanted to give, sir." Yes, her voice was definitely getting closer.

Taking a step back, Jack felt the unyielding presence of Carter's door make itself known. "Can we not with the sir right now?"

"What did he say?" Jack realized that there was a very clear relationship between Carter's proximity and the amount of sense she made to him.

"What?"

"General Hammond. What did General Hammond say when you told him you weren't fit to lead SG-1 anymore?"

"He said, "Too damn bad."" Sensing her disbelief, he held up his hands, some part of him secretly hoping that she'd moved even closer and his hands would conveniently end up on—

"But what does that _mean_?" Her voice had moved away again and Jack looked accusingly at where he thought his hands were, stupid things hanging uselessly in the air…

"It means I'm still leading SG-1."

"Okay, so nothing's changed." Her voice was closer again—how was she _doing_ that?

"Something's changed." Jack leaned more of his weight against the door, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Jack." Her voice was so close that Jack was sure she was standing right in front of him. All of his black ops training and Jack was absolutely positive even _he_ could never move that stealthily. Wait, _Jack_. She'd said his name…albeit in a very exasperated, no nonsense tone…but still.

"He said that it was more detrimental to my command if I was constantly worried about hiding my lack of objectivity. He said that there have been contingencies. He said that SG-1 isn't SG-1 without you or me or, actually, both of us together and that there are contingencies." He took a deep breath, a little deflated that she'd managed to undo him and all his mystery just by saying his name.

"What contingencies?" The man had mentioned them twice, though she doubted he realized.

"I don't know. I didn't ask." Jack shrugged.

"You didn't ask."

"Nope."

"May I ask why?" Sam frowned in the darkness, feeling for all the world like she was talking to a particularly difficult child.

"Because he said everything I needed to hear and then he dismissed me." Jack was suddenly aware that not only was her voice even _closer_, but he could actually feel the heat coming from her body. She was standing directly in front of him, the rise and fall of her chest causing her flannel shirt to brush his crossed arms. Her _not buttoned_ flannel shirt…

"Why are you here?"

"To bring you pizza."

"That it?"

"Not enough?"

"No." Over the course of the conversation, their voices had dropped—they were speaking in near-whispers, each word sending a shiver of breath across the space between them. A soft scrape on either side of him alerted him to the fact that Carter now had him effectively pinned against her door, her arms blocking any escape he might've been stupid enough to try. "Not so fun, is it?"

He didn't ask for clarification. "Actually, I was just thinking that we should do this more often."

"Should because we can?" Her voice was so quiet, Jack wasn't even sure she'd actually spoken.

"We can."

The words hung between them for a long moment. After so many years and so many close calls, it seemed like a very anti-climactic way to finally let that proverbial eighty seventh shoe drop. He should've planned something so much better than pizza and hysterical laughing and crying and now he couldn't even see her face because his stupid self had closed the stupid door!

"We can." She repeated after what felt like an eternity of loaded silence. Another minute passed and he'd _swear to god_ he felt her smirk. "So why aren't you?"

Jack didn't need telling twice. Actually, he did. He had been told a lot of things a lot of times, but in this one instance he was not letting another second go by wasted on words. Uncrossing his arms, his fingers wrapped around the soft material of her open flannel and tugged—or, rather, _yanked_—her against him. Not needing any light, his lips found hers in the dark and proceeded to do devastating things to them, encouraged by the little sounds she couldn't manage to suppress.

Sam's hands slipped from their positions on the door and Jack took that opportunity to wrap his arms around her and flip them so that she found herself—_once again _—sandwiched between Jack and the wall.

Well, technically, this time it was a door, but…_oh_…where had he learned to do _that_?

Sam gasped as he shifted his hold on her, lifting her into the air and tilting her head back to gain access to her neck. Time seemed to slow down and speed up all at the same time as they explored each other, for the first time totally within their right minds _and_ regulations.

Growling low in his throat, Jack spun and carried Sam to the bed, miraculously managing to remember exactly where it was. He dumped them both unceremoniously onto the comforter and _finally_ allowed himself to peel Sam's flannel away from her shoulders. It wasn't exactly ideal that it was still totally dark in the room, but he just made a mental note to set up floodlights for next time.

Sam stilled beneath him and Jack had a momentary flash of panic; she had changed her mind, she was backing out—

"Just so you know, this _is_ leaving the room." Her voice was breathy, but serious.

"_This_?"

"Well, not _this_ this…but I mean it. We go there and we're there, Jack. I cannot and will not pretend that it doesn't mean anything." His name still felt foreign on her lips, but she decided that she liked it. And she figured she'd be getting well acquainted with the name in the very immediate future.

"You won't have to." Jack pressed a searing kiss to her mouth. "Unless this is actually some sort of an alternate reality _or_ we actually got infected with some alien virus thingy on that last mission or we-,"

Sam cut him off with a searing kiss of her own. "Stop talking."

Jack happily complied.

**END**

**A/N: Man oh man! That story went in the exact and total and complete opposite direction I originally had in mind. The note of inspiration I have on this story is, "Jack and Sam have a fight." That's it. That was all. They were just supposed to fight. And then plot happened. Ack.**

**Thank you for reading!**

**P.S. To those of you wondering what the deeper motivations for Jack's actions on the planet were—it was just that the natives were getting riled and he lashed out because, like Sam, he was fed up with their situation. I was going to add a little bit about how Jack overheard some of the natives talking threateningly about Sam…but it got too complicated. So, I'm sticking with the emotional response reasoning. Thank you!**


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